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<title>That's A Fine Looking High Horse (What you got in the Stable?) by DeadDoveDiner</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30037092">That's A Fine Looking High Horse (What you got in the Stable?)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadDoveDiner/pseuds/DeadDoveDiner'>DeadDoveDiner</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Atrocity is Hoarse from Voice and Shame [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bestiality, Centaur Geralt, Come Eating, Cunnilingus, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, F/M, Geralt fucks Roach, Geralt loses his virginity to a horse, Other, Vaginal Fisting, Virgin Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, but not the Roach you think, mentions of Eskel jerking Geralt off out of pity</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 00:54:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,288</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30037092</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadDoveDiner/pseuds/DeadDoveDiner</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Humans were cruel and racist, and Geralt was never going to have sex and would die a virgin lest he stumble upon another Centaur, and the likelihood of that was slimmer than finding a whore who wanted to touch his freakish horse cock.</p><p>But that was fine. He was fine. </p><p>He was a Witcher, not an incubus- he didn't need sex to survive, and he certainly didn't need sex to do his job. He was stronger than his wants and needs, and he'd weather this with the same will and determination that he applied to everything else in his life. </p><p>He would not break.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia (mentioned), Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Roach</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Atrocity is Hoarse from Voice and Shame [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2209644</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>60</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>That's A Fine Looking High Horse (What you got in the Stable?)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>DEAD DOVE<br/>Heed the tags! This contains graphic depictions of a Centaur fucking an ACTUAL horse. Don't be a dick and consider yourself warned!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">Geralt isn't surprised when the brothel turns him away before he even makes it to the door. He's not even sure why he tries any more, if he's honest. Creatures like him are rarer than rare and its no shock to him that he's yet to find a single whore in any city or backwater town that will service him.</p><p class="western">Centaurs are the kind of creature written about in the old bestiaries locked away in the Witcher schools and little where else. The kind of creature that normal people couldn't even conceive a thought of because who would imagine a monstrous horse-man hybrid apart from an artist who had smoked one too many bowls?</p><p class="western">Yet still, there were advantages that came with his species, he supposed. He was bigger and stronger than other Witchers, not to mention three times as fast. He could go longer without a break, and his Centaur heritage was the reason the mutagens took to him so well and why he was chosen to undergo more mutations- which wasn't exactly an <em>advantage</em>, but he couldn't deny that those extra mutations had boosted him above the other Witchers even further.</p><p class="western">But the downsides to being a Centaur outweighed them drastically, and not only because there wasn't a woman alive who would fuck him.</p><p class="western">He paid more at inns and had to sleep in the stable with <em>the other horses </em>rather than a heated room. Blacksmiths and Farriers charged more to fix his blades and shoes, and many armourers refused to work with him unless he bought a full set of horse armour <em>and</em> human armour, instead of the pieces he needed separately. Humans and even other Witchers looked at him like he was freak and a monster, and worst of all he couldn't even fucking jerk off when he was on the path.</p><p class="western">Okay, so yes, it eventually came back to sex, but can you blame him?</p><p class="western">Normal Witchers had overly amplified sex drives as it was, and he was a fucking <em> Centaur </em> - a <em> stallion </em>. Of course he was horny and agitated all the time. It was in his blood long before the mutagens ever were!</p><p class="western">Back at Kaer Morhen they at least had a bench made up for him when he felt the need, fashioned from an old breeding bench and cushioned with piles of wool and linen to make it more comfortable and keep him from getting splinters in his cock. Hell, some of the older Witchers had even joked and offered their mares for a round or two, but they weren't serious and Geralt was far too young at the time to even laugh at such a disgusting offer.</p><p class="western">Sometimes, if he was incredibly lucky, Eskel would lend him a hand and jerk him off until he was satisfied, but that was rarer than finding mention of one of his kind in books or scrolls, and Geralt had just had to come to accept it. He'd lived with it for half a century now, and he doubted it was something he was going to shake any time soon.</p><p class="western">That was just how it was.</p><p class="western">Humans were cruel and racist, and Geralt was never going to have sex and would die a virgin lest he stumble upon another Centaur, and the likelihood of that was slimmer than finding a whore who wanted to touch his freakish horse cock.</p><p class="western">But that was fine.<em> He </em>was fine.</p><p class="western">He was a <em>Witcher</em>, not an incubus- he didn't need sex to survive, and he certainly didn't need sex to do his job. He was stronger than his wants and needs, and he'd weather this with the same will and determination that he applied to everything else in his life.</p><p class="western">
  <em>He would <b>not</b> break. </em>
</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p class="western">He breaks.</p><p class="western">
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p class="western">
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p class="western">The town is still and quiet save for the rush of rain and occasional rumble of thunder above, and Geralt's willing to admit that he's glad he decided to shell out for a place to stay for the night rather than trying his luck in the surrounding woods. Coin was hard to come by around these parts, but the stable was decently warm and dry that he was willing enough to part with a few just to keep out of the coming downpour he'd been smelling on the horizon all day.</p><p class="western">But that was <em>before.</em></p><p class="western">Now, Geralt's tucked away in a stall, tattered blanket thrown over his shoulders, hay strewn under his hooves, and cock harder than it's ever been in his entire life because in the stall next to him is a fucking mare smack in the middle of her season. Geralt curses each and every God, demon, and Deity that he can think of for leading him to this moment- for leading him to his <em>ruin</em>.</p><p class="western">When he was younger, he could get himself off the same way that real stallions did- jerking his cock up and slapping it against his belly until he climaxed, but it took so long and rarely left him satisfied enough for it to be worth it, even back then. Now it did nothing more than agitate him and rile him up for something he couldn't have.</p><p class="western">And fuck, but he's so sore. And he's <em>tired</em>, and so fucking horny he'd cum in a <em>second</em> if he could find literally <em>anything</em> to rub his cock on that wouldn't end in tears and splinters and <em>blood</em>. Once had been enough to caution him off humping random things he came across that weren't specifically made for the act, no matter how deceitfully smooth and soft they looked. It was a <em>lie, </em>and Geralt was <em>sure</em> he must have done something downright <em>evil</em> in his previous life to be subjected to this kind of torture in his currently one.</p><p class="western">Maybe he killed babies for fun.</p><p class="western">Maybe he was <em>King</em>.</p><p class="western">Or maybe Destiny just hated his fucking guts and got off on watching him suffer.</p><p class="western">Groaning, he buries his face in his arms where he has them crossed over the opposite fence to where the mare is, his back turned to her. Every breath he takes, its like he's drowning in heat pheromones, and his cock throbs and drips heavily between his legs. And the fact that she can smell him too doesn't make it any easier.</p><p class="western">As far as she's aware, there's a perfectly acceptable stallion barely meters from her and she's reacting to that as one would expect- toeing at the ground and nickering at him to try and entice him closer. Before he'd forced himself to the other end of the stall, she'd even leaned over the partition and nipped at him to get his attention, and <em>Gods</em> had he almost given in to her teasing then. He'd only held himself back by the tiniest of scraps of his will, and it was becoming harder and harder by the second to stay away.</p><p class="western">His jaw aches from the force of the clench of his teeth as he fights against all the pleas and instinct that's calling to him to just give in. It would be <em>so easy</em> and he'd finally know how it felt to fuck something other than a breeding bench, and the mare is practically <em>gagging</em> for it.</p><p class="western">Suddenly, the scent of piss coils in with the pheromones saturating the room- sharp and carrying with it the scent of fertility and-- Geralt snaps.</p><p class="western">Fine.</p><p class="western"><em>Fine</em>.</p><p class="western">She wanted it that badly? She could fucking <em>have</em> it, he thinks, almost ripping the gate open in his bid to get to her.</p><p class="western">She's a pretty one, he has to admit through the haze of fuck pheromones and want coursing through him. Tall and dark coated, with good strong legs. Patches of grey and white speckle up her hock and over her backside like sunlight spilling through a canopy of trees, half a sock the same colour on her front right. She's well fed and healthy, bright eyed and alert.</p><p class="western">She reacts as he'd expected from her as he approaches her- lipping at him as he passes and then twisting to show off the wink of her dripping cunt. And fuck if he'd never seen something so fucking hot in his <em>life.</em> Thick black lips, gaping open to tease him with the sight of the pretty pink pussy inside. Slick drools from her, running down and making a mess of the fur under and around her cunt as he tail flicks through it, spreading the scent around the stable.</p><p class="western">Geralt has a passing thought that glad they're the only two in that night because he dreads to think how another stallion would react in her presence. He'd probably kick down the partitions to get to her, and Geralt doesn't know if he'd have enough mind not to attack the poor creature if it were to come to that.</p><p class="western">But that's-- it's a moot point, since they're the only two stabled tonight, and Geralt brushes the thought away to focus on more important things.</p><p class="western">Like allowing himself a passing swipe of his trembling fingers through the soft wetness of her cunt before he unhooks the gate and lets himself into her stall. His mouth is dry, palms sweaty- he's <em>nervous</em>, but fuck if the arousal burning through him isn't stronger than anything else.</p><p class="western">She snorts, twitches her head to throw him a look over her shoulder as he sooths a hand down her speckled backside.</p><p class="western">“Hey there, pretty girl,” his voice is deeper and darker than he's ever heard it, and he almost hates it for how much it gives away his current state of arousal. The mare has been taunting and teasing him with her scent since her owner brought her in out of the rain hours earlier and he's had <em>enough</em>. “You're a good girl, huh? Gonna be good for me, too?”</p><p class="western">There's a small fire place by the far wall- probably for the stable hands when it's too cold for them to work without added warmth- and while Geralt is pleased by that, its not the thing he'd most appreciative of in that moment. No. What he's most pleased about is the fact that the stable, while in need of a good cleaning and scrub down, is entirely enclosed.</p><p class="western">He's stayed in places where the only shelter offered was a leaking, rickety old thatch roof and a hitching post, with a water trough and wire feeder full of rotten hay.</p><p class="western">The stable here is well made and sturdy, heavy doors and window shutters closed against the biting cold outside, and Geralt is grateful not only because it means he won't freeze to death in the night, but it also means that when he leads the mare from her stall and into the main path, no one can see them, and she can't run were she to get loose.</p><p class="western">He slips a simple rope bridle over her muzzle and secures her to one of the posts lining the stall he'd plucked her from, patting her down in long soothing swipes of his hands when he's done.</p><p class="western">“Good girl,” he says again, allowing himself to press an innocent little kiss to the soft squish of her nose. She snorts, leans into it, and lips at his cheek and hair, tugging gently on the long strands.</p><p class="western">Geralt sighs, eyes fluttering as he leans into touch.</p><p class="western">The path is a lonely place and he can't remember the last time he felt the touch of another creature that wasn't actively trying to kill him. Maybe that temple healer this year past? She'd been kind enough to clean and wrap his wounds for him when a ghoul took a good chunk out of the back of his hind leg and he was unable to tend to it himself.</p><p class="western">She'd even gone so far as to brush him down and clean his hooves for him which was a luxury only awarded to him on occasion when he could get one of the other Witchers in Kaer Morhen to do it.</p><p class="western">She was a kindness in an otherwise cruel existence on the path, and he appreciated everything she'd done for him those few days he'd stayed at the temple. But she wasn't a whore, and he'd never have insulted her by requesting a helping hand <em>elsewhere </em>no matter how much he craved it.</p><p class="western">The mare snorts again as he starts to pat down her neck. She's not a small horse, but he's still taller than her by a foot at least, head towering over her. He has to lean down when he presses another kiss to her muzzle and then one to her forehead, and then one last one between her ears, all the while rubbing her down to calm her and get her used to him before he starts to move around behind her again.</p><p class="western">He pats down her back and flank as he steps around her, always keeping a hand on her as he leaves her eye line. She agitates a little, but calms again quickly when he murmurs a few soothing praises.</p><p class="western">Geralt groans when he's finally facing her pussy once more, and slides his thumb up the length of her. The scent of her is <em>divine- </em>fresh and musky all in one and stinking of arousal and fertility. Geralt couldn't even impregnate one of his own kind now after the trials and mutations let alone an <em>actual</em> <em>horse</em>, but that doesn't stop the stallion part of his brain from rearing up and <em>wanting</em>.</p><p class="western">It was a biological need- breed, reproduce, bring forth the next generation and continue your bloodline. It was impossible, but that didn't stop the desire.</p><p class="western">His cock jerks, slaps against his stomach as he sucks the slick from his thumb and then pushes two fingers inside the mares hot clutch. Two quickly becomes three, and then four, and then he's teasing his fist at her cunt while she huffs and snorts and pushes back at him impatiently. Geralt watches in awe as she clenches and winks around him, sucking him in until he sinks in up to his wrist and then <em>deeper</em>. She's just as fucking desperate for it as he is and fuck if that isn't a <em>thrill</em>.</p><p class="western">Slick pours from her as he fucks his entire forearm inside, filthy wet squelching noises accompanying every punch.</p><p class="western">He's not ashamed to say he loses himself in it a little- the sounds and scents and <em>sight</em> of her cunt wrapped around the crook of his elbow as he fucks her. He doesn't even know how long he's at it- fucking her on his arm while he bites and kisses her hind and back, leaning in to suck and lick at the stretch of her, making her nicker and bray and shudder around him.</p><p class="western">He doesn't even realise what's happening until she lifts her backside higher, tail quivering. Her head tosses and bobs, and she lets out a noise like something he's never heard before as her body clenches and clamps so hard around him that Geralt thinks that were he human, it would have broken his arm and left him a cripple.</p><p class="western">Its a slow to come to him that he just made the mare orgasm, and he's slower still to react.</p><p class="western">And then suddenly he's pulling from her, too quickly if the way she bucks and kicks at him is any indication, but he doesn't care. She just fucking <em>came</em> around his <em>arm, </em>and he has to be inside her <em><b>right</b></em> <em><b>now.</b></em></p><p class="western">She got hers, and there was no way in fucking hell he was leaving without getting his too.</p><p class="western">The wooden beam of the ceiling is rough and sharp in his palms as he uses it to steady himself as he mounts up over her back. She dances under him, shifting and shuffling and Geralt grits his teeth as he tightens his forelegs around her middle to hold her still.</p><p class="western">His cock jerks and rubs across her thighs and between her legs, thrusting against her and seemingly touching every part of her bar where he actually wants to be. Its almost impossible with her dancing under him, and sweat is pooling and dripping down his chest and body, but he doesn't give up. He keeps at it- shuffling and snorting and <em> trying </em> until finally the spongy head of his flare touches soft wet and he drives forward with all the strength and might of a stallion.</p><p class="western">Geralt jerks, head lolling, mouth drooping in a silent moan of ecstasy as he stills, buried to the hilt inside her fleshy walls. His chest heaves, heart thundering.</p><p class="western">It feels-- fucking <em> incredible </em>.</p><p class="western">She's not a small horse by any measure, but he's huge in comparison, and even after fucking her open on his arm just before, she's still like a vice around his cock. Tight and wet and shuddering like he imagines a virgin would around an average sized cock. Her gash suckles at the base of him, slick and slippery wet as it quivers and flexes around the stretch.</p><p class="western">He gives a experimental thrust- not too hard, but enough to drag his cock from her a few inches and fuck back inside. The mare nickers sharply, her head tossing and hips jumping back like she's trying to kick out at him but he doesn't care, doesn't stop- <em> can't stop </em>. His grip on the beams above him tighten until something creaks- his knuckles or the wood- and he finally lets himself fuck to his hearts content.</p><p class="western">And its downright <em> animal </em> . He's a beast, a <em> monster </em> , fucking an innocent animal because he's too horny to function and he fucking <em> loves </em> it. His hard, heavy thrusts jerk the mare under him forward harsh enough that it drives the breath from her, and she has to widen her stance to keep herself from collapsing under the assault. Her cunt makes slick squelching noises every time he buries his cock into her core, and its so fucking hot around him- wetter and tighter than anything he ever thought possible and he can't help but lose himself in the feeling. The stretch of her is divine and every time she bucks against him, he fucks deeper and harder and its like meeting a <em> God. </em></p><p class="western">He can't believe he went half a century without this- that he thought his brothers hands on him to be the height of pleasure.</p><p class="western">Never.</p><p class="western">Nothing will ever compare to this- to the grip, the sound, the fucking <em> smell </em>.</p><p class="western">“Fucking <em>Gods</em>,” he curses, doubling down harder. Already, he can feel himself nearing the peak and he has to bite his tongue to give him something else to focus on so he doesn't cum right that second. So soon- <em>too</em> soon. He never wants this to end- never again wants to be without a hot cunt around his cock now that he has it.</p><p class="western">“<em>Gods</em>,” he curses again, voice bordering almost on a whine. His grip on her tightens further as he fucks into her with reckless abandon<em>, heavy stud balls slapping against the jut of her clit. If he could, he'd reach under and get her off again, but its not possible with his physic so he deigns instead to fuck her harder, rougher. To bring her to the peak and push her over once more with his cock alone if he can only hold back his own orgasm long enough. </em></p><p class="western">The mare tosses her head, lipping at the air. She bucks, and bares down on his cock, fucks back against him- to get more or to push him off, he doesn't know, doesn't care. He fucks her even harder until his own chest is heaving with the exertion of it all.</p><p class="western">The clutch of her, the <em>drag</em>- it's too much for his overwhelmed body to handle.</p><p class="western">He cums with a sound like nothing he's ever heard himself make before- some sort of cross between a grunt and bray. Hard and deep, he fucks inside, clamping his forelegs down strong around her as she jerks under him. He shoves as deep as possible, the fleshy crown kissing her cervix and pressing up hard against it, and pumps her full to the brim with his burning seed as he groans his triumph to the sky.</p><p class="western">And then there's a lull, a silence- broken only by his heaving pants and her billowing snorts as they both gasp for breath in the aftermath of their mating. Head too heavy, Geralt lets it drop between his shoulders and looks down upon his bedmate, watching the way her fur darkens with the sweat that drips from his own body and stains her with his scent.</p><p class="western">He groans, hips jerking at the thought. The mare snorts and kicks back in response, and despite the fact that he's already growing hard again- <em>never even went soft in the first place</em>-, Geralt allows her a reprieve.</p><p class="western">Her cunt makes a filthy sound as his cock pulls free, cum spraying down her legs and over his belly. Geralt has to steady himself on the fence as he dismounts, legs weak and unsteady. His chest heaves like a war horse, sweat running in rivers down his body as he fights to catch his breath.</p><p class="western">The mare huffs, shakes herself off, tail whipping and flicking a rain of his cum and her own tempting nectar through the air to splatter over the fence and up his body. Geralt allows the more animal part of his brain to lead him as he catches a drop of it by his nipple and sucks it into his mouth. His eyes flutter at the taste, a growling groan rumbling through him.</p><p class="western">If the mare's startled by the sound, she doesn't show it- she doesn't even turn to look at him as he steps closer once more, running his fingers over her pretty, dripping lips. He's transfixed by the brutal gape he's left her with- the way her cunt tries so desperately to close and keep his claim inside, but can't because of how wide and deep he's fucked her.</p><p class="western">“Fuck,” he groans, falling to kneel behind her so he can drop face first into her gash, sucking a mouthful of their combined juices from her pussy lips and swallowing it down. He licks her clean of any escaped filth and then sucks the thick swell of her clit into his mouth, right hand coming up to fuck back inside her as he does so.</p><p class="western">She startles, lifting her rear and tossing her head in shocked pleasure, but it doesn't take him long at all to force another orgasm from her and have her whinnying and fucking back on his arm once again. Slick and cum drip down his forearm and face when he pulls free of her once more, allowing himself one last long lick and kiss to her fucked out hole before he forces himself away and up.</p><p class="western">“Gods,” he mutters to himself. His legs are too unsteady to keep him standing on their own, so he shuffles back a few steps to rest his weight against the back wall, head dropping back as he catches his breath.</p><p class="western">He feels- fucking amazing, actually. Like he has no stress in the world. Or, more accurately, like he just fucked every stress he's ever accumulated out into the welcoming cunt of a mare. And <em>fuck</em> does that feel <em>good</em>.</p><p class="western">“Fuck,” he pants, letting the wall take more of his weight, a shiver breaking out across his body as he remembers the feeling of her around him.</p><p class="western">He stays there a long moment catching his breath until the thing he's leaning against on the wall starts to cut into him too deep and forces him to take his own weight once more. He shifts, looking over to see what it was and catches sight of thick straps of leather hanging from hooks nailed into the thick beam above.</p><p class="western">Her tack- all clean and shiny and new, and obviously pretty expensive if the details craved and branded into them are any indication.</p><p class="western">Witchers have no need for pretty things like that- their gear and their horses gear all wear out too quickly and need to be replaced far too often to be able to warrant spending extra on frills and garnishes just for the aesthetic of the thing. But he can't deny that its nice and probably makes the mare look rather fetching when she's all geared up.</p><p class="western">He hums, tracing the twists and swirls- and then pauses, fingers stilling on an engraving across the chest of her collar strap. A name.</p><p class="western">“Roach, huh?” he murmurs, looking over at the mare where she's still showing off her cunt to him like she's trying to lure him back inside. She huffs at the mention of her name, twisting to look over her shoulder and blinking bright blue eyes at him.</p><p class="western"><em>Roach</em>.</p><p class="western">“I like it,”</p><p class="western">Maybe he'll go into market tomorrow- find himself a seller and nice young mare, and have himself his own Roach to take out on the path with him. He could use the company, if he's honest, and it'd be nice not to have to carry so much stuff himself- not to mention the obvious. He'd be getting himself a companion, a packhorse, and a lover all in one.</p><p class="western">Geralt hums, abandoning the tack to slide back up behind Roach, cock already heavy between his legs and ready for another round. Roach winks her cunt at him as if in agreement.</p><p class="western"><em>Yes,</em> he thinks. He'll find himself a nice mare to take on the path with him tomorrow, but tonight he's warm and comfortable and still has hours yet before the sun rises, and there’s already a Roach with him, ready and rearing to be ridden into the night.</p><p class="western">And he's all too happy to oblige.</p><p class="western">
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  <em>Fin </em>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment and a kudos! <br/>Ciao!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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